


Christmas '93

by bonoffee



Category: U2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonoffee/pseuds/bonoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Xmas Challenge! Here I present a fic based on the prompts from rhythmsextion – Adam/anyone, Zoo TV Era, including eggnog and snowman. Merry Christmas, rhythmsextion, hope you enjoy this little, rather fluffy, pressie! It turned out a lot sweeter than I'd intended - but then again it's Christmas, I'm sure you understand. ;)<br/>Many thanks to samuti for being my last-minute beta!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Christmas '93

**Author's Note:**

> For the Xmas Challenge! Here I present a fic based on the prompts from rhythmsextion – Adam/anyone, Zoo TV Era, including eggnog and snowman. Merry Christmas, rhythmsextion, hope you enjoy this little, rather fluffy, pressie! It turned out a lot sweeter than I'd intended - but then again it's Christmas, I'm sure you understand. ;)  
> Many thanks to samuti for being my last-minute beta!

  


Still the pain taunted Adam when he woke up. The trauma of Sydney had not yet dissipated; during the times his brain allowed him the strength and space to think coherently, he was flooded by anxiety, calm, recklessness, dread, a jittering worry that it might all be over because of him, the real possibility that he might have twisted his relationships into something that could never be unwound. 

And by the time he dragged himself into the cold bathroom, Adam remembered it was Christmas Day. Something about those words, forming themselves in his mind, decorated with tinsel and the odd bauble, renewed hope in Adam. Yes, he was alone, but that was for the best. He couldn’t hurt anybody if he stayed inside and hummed a few carols while trying to tidy. The place hadn’t been touched since Edge had stayed and it needed a bit of a spring clean.

Spring. A new start. No more touring. Time to breathe, recover, deal with the echoes of Sydney that had reverberated, warningly, beforehand and were still shaking everybody’s foundations. None of them could have gone on; by the time they played the final show everyone was both physically drained and emotionally exhausted. Now, it was just difficult to cope with sitting still, being normal, not relying on whatever substance to get through the day. A new start definitely sounded good.

For now, perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing that Adam was alone. He wasn’t sure how much company he’d be able to provide, and he knew the others had commitments. As the aching numb in his blood refused to subside, he thought of  _Bono with his girls, Edge and Morleigh, Larry kissing Ann under the mistletoe._  And suddenly, he wanted a drink.

*

 _I want a drink._

Larry swore as a boxy red Ford pulled out in front of him without warning, forcing him to slam on the brakes. He’d expected the roads to be pretty quiet when he’d set out, telling Ann and the various family members  _I’ll be back soon, just need to check up on Adam. He’s been ill, yes, no, he’s fine, I won’t be long._  Escaping the clutches of rarely-seen relatives was certainly a blessing, but that wasn’t the reason he had gone. 

The bottle sat in the passenger seat, quiet and sober.  _Makes a change from my usual backseat drivers_. Larry started to slow as he neared Adam’s; snow was lying on the pavements and the road could be hiding dangerous ice patches. There was no sign of anybody down here, something Larry was grateful for in one way, but in another he was reminded of how isolated Adam had made himself. 

 _Not today, though._  Larry changed gears and manoeuvred the car into the drive with its overgrown flowerbeds.  _No one should be alone at Christmas._

If Larry ignored the  _want_  burning inside him, just underneath his skin, he was almost able to believe this was a selfless mission. 

*

 _I wonder if this is a selfless mission._  Adam pulled on a very scruffy pair of trousers, foregoing a shirt, and went to the door. 

“Larry.” An observation more than anything; Larry’s hair was mussed, his cheeks were pink from the cold air, he was clutching a bottle and his eyes searched for an anchor in Adam’s. He was so  _pretty._

“Hi,” Larry replied, a little breathlessly. “I, um, I realised you might not be spending today with anyone, so I decided to come over. See how you were.”

 _His lips look chapped._  A small shiver skipped down Adam’s spine. “You’ve just spent about two years seeing me every single day. I’d have thought I was the last person you’d want to be with on Christmas Day.” It wasn’t false modesty; Adam found it a release to speak honestly to the one person he knew would never judge him.  _Only one reason why I love him. But I blew that, like I’ve blown everything._

Larry smiled. It eased the tightness in Adam’s throat. “Ah, well, you know me, Ad’. Glutton for punishment. Anyway, if I hadn’t come, you’d have had Bono visiting instead, and  _then_  you’d be sorry.” He winked. Adam couldn’t resist a chuckle. “And I have this to give you.” He handed Adam the unlabelled bottle and added quickly, “It’s non-alcoholic eggnog. Edge and Bono got some, too.” 

 _You don’t have to try to make me feel better._  Then Adam realised he  _did_  feel better, but not because of the eggnog. 

“You’d better come in,” he said, stepping aside to let Larry past. 

“Thanks.” And oh, that smile.

*

 _Oh, that smile._  Larry knew, as he walked into the house, that this had been the right idea. All the suffering and uncertainty of the past few months was worth it somehow, when Adam smiled like that. It hadn’t happened much lately, and Larry felt a secret thrill at the knowledge he was responsible.

 _Maybe there is hope for us, after all._

“Sorry about the mess,” Adam was saying as he followed Larry into the living room, where the curtains were closed and the coffee table centrepiece was an overflowing ashtray. Larry didn’t care. All that he could think about was the fact Adam was right there behind him, alive and well and  _real._

He turned to see Adam staring at him. 

“Shall I open that eggnog?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle Adam was still holding, slightly awkwardly. “I made it myself, y’know.”

Adam raised an eyebrow in that deliciously sardonic way of his and looked down warily at the bottle. “I’m not terribly sure that’s a reason to drink it,” he replied, the tiniest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Larry very much wanted to kiss it into submission. 

“Don’t worry, I tested it out on Bono first, and he’s still alive.” Larry stepped forward to take the eggnog from Adam and went through to the kitchen, glad of something to do. This was neither the time nor the frame of mind to be messing with both of their emotions, but Larry knew he was perilously close to ignoring his own advice. It didn’t matter that ordinarily he was sensible and cautious and reliable. When it came to Adam, whatever it was that held Larry together ended up crumbling in the face of searing lust. 

It had been that way for years. Christmas brought it home more forcefully, because it had been during an extremely debauched festive party way back in the band’s beginnings that Adam had kissed Larry under the stairs. The taste of tobacco and spirits had lingered on Larry’s tongue for days afterwards; even now he fancied he could recall the specific flavour. 

And after that, something changed between them. Their dynamic became tighter, their playing followed, and as the band became successful, Larry found himself falling deeper in whatever-it-was with Adam. He knew what they had would probably never amount to more than a furtive kiss here and there, a quick fumble when no one was looking, the odd proper fuck when loneliness threatened to pull one or both under. 

What scared Larry now was the fact one of them was lonely again, and he wasn’t sure he could walk away.

*

 _I hope he doesn’t walk away,_  Adam thought as he sat restlessly on the couch.  _What if he leaves? I wouldn’t blame him._

But Larry had never left before. Even when Adam treated him like shit, he always stayed to pick up the pieces and make things better. After Adam’s lowest ebb, Larry was the person waiting to gently suggest America if he felt up to it, if he truly wanted to sort his life out and remain in the band. Looking out for Adam, taking care of him.

It was as if alcohol and touring and Naomi hadn’t happened. Those in particular had really hurt Larry, Adam knew with a pang of guilt, yet he refused to turn his back. It seemed inexplicable. 

 _I’m not worth his time and attention and, and love. When have I ever repaid him?_

It was Adam’s fault, too, for seducing Larry that Christmas while Bono was leading the room in a raucous sing-song. Young Larry, barely touched, at the mercy of Adam with his experience and desire and lack of consideration for the repercussions. He’d wanted Larry’s mouth so badly. The whimpers had been music to Adam’s ears, so high-pitched and swaying, and if he closed his eyes now he was certain he could hear them again.

 _Failed. I’ve failed him so many times. I took him for granted because he loved me and I loved him. I wish he hadn’t come over; I’m too screwed up right now to handle it._

The thought occurred to Adam that perhaps Larry had been screwed up for a lot longer, and because of him.

“Adam? Here’s your eggnog!” 

*

“Adam? Here’s your eggnog!” 

Larry placed the glass on the counter and picked up his own just as Adam appeared, looking pensive. 

“Thanks.” 

“I hope it’s okay.” Larry watched as Adam drank, entranced by his elegant throat. 

“Mmm, it’s lovely,” Adam answered with a brief smile when he was finished. “You’ve a talent there, Lawrence.”

Larry laughed. “Good to know I have one somewhere.” 

Adam shook his head slightly. “You have lots.” Their eyes met and it was uncomfortable, as Larry had anticipated, but tinged with a charged longing. 

 _I’d love to help him properly. Make him let go and laugh and forget how shit he’s feeling at the moment. It’s Christmas, for God’s sake._

“It’s snowing again,” Adam observed after a moment, taking Larry by surprise. “Makes the garden look beautiful.”

An idea suddenly formed in Larry’s mind and he put down his glass, smiling widely at Adam. 

“Let’s go outside,” he said eagerly, moving towards the door. Adam frowned at him, puzzled. “Come on! It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Perhaps Adam didn’t like to refuse, or maybe he was so fed up of being inside, but he nodded and went to fetch, Larry assumed, a jumper and his coat while Larry pulled his own on again. He opened the back door and waited for Adam, who’d added gloves to his ensemble by the time he returned.

Out in the crunchy snow, Larry laughed carelessly as flakes fell in his hair and onto the tip of his nose. He watched Adam tilt his face to the sky and take a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

It was a minute or so before Adam emerged from his thoughts and looked at Larry expectantly. “What’s the plan, then?” he enquired.

“We’re going to build a snowman!” Larry replied, laughing again, feeling the giddiness of Christmas and snow and love tumble through him in such a way that everything and nothing made sense at the same time. “Snow _men,_  actually. A Bono or an Edge, since they can’t be here. What do you think?” 

It was Adam’s resulting grin that gave Larry his reward. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

*

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” And Adam felt himself smile in a way he hadn’t for a long time. He helped Larry to pack some snow into a haphazard ball, which they then rolled up the garden together to make it bigger and stronger. A ‘head’ followed, which Larry took from Adam and placed on top, grinning as he stepped back.

“Dead ringer for Bono already,” he commented, causing Adam to laugh.  _Really_  laugh. He felt his pain lessen - almost negligibly, but it was enough. 

“I know what we need!” he announced, as Larry set about using stones for eyes and pressing in sticks as arms. Adam went inside and emerged, triumphant, with a pair of sunglasses. Larry smirked when he saw them.

“These are actually nicer than Bono’s. Think we should tell him a snowman’s got better taste than he does?” 

Adam chuckled. “As long as I’m there when you do it.” He pushed them into the snow, over the stone-eyes, and exchanged a glance with Larry. “Perfect,” he added, suddenly unable to look anywhere else but into those honest blue eyes, at this man who never let him down despite all his problems and made him happy on a Christmas Day he’d fully expected to be Hell.

“Ad’, I…” Larry licked his lips. Adam swallowed. “I meant what I said, y’know. About. About America. Next year, or whenever. I think I’m definitely gonna go, and, well, you’re definitely invited. If that’s what you want.”

The truth was, Adam didn’t know what he wanted. Not yet, anyway. He’d so much to sort out within himself, with Naomi, with the band in general, and he couldn’t commit to Larry when all of that needed done. It was so tempting to agree straight away, but that would be irresponsible and unfair to them both. Instead, he cleared his throat.

“Larry, I can’t give you an answer just now. But that doesn’t mean I’m saying no. It’s just… I mean… There’s a lot. A lot I have to do.” Adam stared down at his blue gloves, his shame nudging him sharply in the ribs. 

Seconds later, he felt icy fingers under his chin, and dry lips pressed against his own.

*

Larry pressed his dry lips to Adam’s. He could barely believe he was doing this, kissing Adam,  _touching_  him properly, meaningfully, and Adam was letting it happen. It was the start of the healing they both so badly needed. Larry felt his free hand being taken and held, tightly, the rough wool soothing his skin.

Even as they drew apart Larry wanted more. But he couldn’t have it. Not yet. 

“Take as long as you need,” he said, resting his forehead against Adam’s. Their noses became reacquainted; their breath merged with the newly-descending mist. “I understand. And I’ll wait for you, Ad’. I’ll wait as long as it fucking takes. This is the wrong time for us, y’know, it’s not right for us. But… when it is…” 

Larry couldn’t say any more, because his throat had swollen and his eyes were watering from the stinging air. 

 _I love you._

*

 _I love you._

Adam nudged another soft, careful kiss to Larry’s mouth, which was received with the smallest of moans. It deepened briefly, Adam finding solace in the warmth and the tears, until he ended it – for now.

 _When it is._

 _When it is, I’ll be all yours._

  



End file.
